Her Russian Hero (International Romance Series) (14 page)

Silence drifted over them. She
opened her eyes and stole a glance at him. He sat on his haunches studying her
with reverence. “Sergei,” she called softly, missing the warmth of his body
against hers.

“
Crassiva
. You’re so
beautiful.” His gaze traveled slowly over her length and his eyes sparkled with
glints of sexual intent. Heat engulfed her without him even touching her. But
she wanted his touch, the contact of their flesh, and her softness against his
muscles.

Cecile opened her arms wide,
stretched seductively and beckoned him close. “I want you.” She threaded her
fingers inside the elastic band of his boxer shorts and lowered them slowly.
Very slowly. Her eyes skated over the rippling muscles of his belly. He was so
handsome, so gorgeously male.

Free of the shorts his erection
sprang, glorious and throbbing. She smiled, pleased with the way she affected
him, and extended her hand to rub his shaft with a feather-light caress. He
dipped his head backward, his breathing labored.

Confident in her power to
dispense as much pleasure as she received, she wrapped her fingers around him. He
groaned and eased her hand away. “Enough, my darling. Now it is my turn.”

Cradling the back of her head, he
claimed her lips and his tongue danced a wild waltz in her mouth. How could she
forget her lover was a Belarusian officer used to being in charge, taking
command, being on top? She suppressed a giggle. By all means, let him be on top
of her. He slid next to her, half lying over her, exactly as she wished him to
be.

Snatching his mouth away from
hers, he nuzzled at her neck and trailed moist kisses all the way to her
breasts, fondling them one after the other, making her heart leap and race in
excitement. As he took a peak into his mouth and teased, his strong but gentle
fingers slid between her thighs and crawled deep inside her to stroke and fondle.
She gasped and shivered and saw silver stars dancing behind her eyelids. And
suddenly she couldn’t think at all.

Drowning in pleasure, she spread
her hand on his back, ushering his head toward hers. His lips moved to her
mouth and his fingers released her. He rolled them both around and eased away.
A drawer squealed. He protected himself and his eyes searched hers with probing
intensity.

”Please now,” she whispered.

“Yes now.” But he smiled and
kissed the pulse at the base of her neck, igniting more flame on her blazing
flesh as his lips roamed over her breasts and moved lower to her stomach. He
teased her navel with his tongue and she squirmed, her skin quivering with
pleasure and anticipation.

“Now,” she panted, her heart
pounding like an out-of-control drum.

His breathing heavy, he spread
her legs wider. His fingers glided lower, splayed on her thighs and played with
her inner folds. She moaned and writhed, clutching and kneading his shoulders,
as waves of pleasure washed over her.

Then he was on top of her.
Instinctively she raised her hips to meet him. He teased her, then withdrew.
When she thought she would go mad with wanting, he slid deeper, rocking himself
into her softness. Pleasure swept through her. She convulsed and cried out in
ecstasy. A moment later, he stiffened beneath her hands, then shuddered and
collapsed onto her, cradling her tightly against his body.

She dug her fingers into the taut
muscles of his back, wrapped her legs tightly around him. Fused him to her so
she would never let him go. They remained embraced, breathing hard. Cecile
floated in and out of a fantasy world that belonged only to them and to their
present.

He kissed her cheeks and eyelids
and locked his hand on her breast. “My darling, how I wish I could always keep
you with me.”

“Shush. Please don’t talk about
the future.” Cecile knew she would burst out sobbing if he just uttered one
more word about their hopeless tomorrow.

She grabbed his shoulders and
sealed his lips with hers. He lingered on her mouth and deepened the pressure.
Her general knew how to kiss, how to dispense pleasure and tenderness and play
with every fiber of her body as if he was trebling on violin strings. She
reveled in his luscious lips and his swift tongue, his gentle fingers and his
sturdy body. Her nails raked on the bulging area of his arms, zigzagged down on
his back, massaging his spine and kneading the hard muscles.

He released her mouth and laid
his cheek against hers. Still lying on top of her, he breathed deeply. “That
feels good…hmm, so good.” He raised his chest and leaned on his elbows. “I’m
sorry. I’ve been selfishly relishing your caresses. Am I too heavy for you?”

She smiled and admired the naked
body looming above her, muscular and lean, not an inch of flabby flesh, just raw
masculinity in all its glory. And he was hers, at least for the moment.

“Never too heavy. I’d like to
keep you chained to me forever.” She pulled him down and he squeezed her
against him kissing her with so much passion her eyes needled with tears.

Snatching her mouth away, she
wailed, “Sergei, how am I going to go back? How am I going to leave you? I
spent my life dreaming of a hero like you.”

The gentle concern in his eyes
made her heart lurch. He rubbed his knuckles against her cheek. “Let me love you,
my darling and you will cherish these memories until we meet again.”

* * * * *

Satiated and peaceful, Sergei
rolled away from the soft form cushioning him. He raised his hand and glanced
at his watch. It was five in the morning and time to move. The interlude of
love had ended and the claws of the bitter daily routine clutched at his heart
again. He trailed a last loving gaze over her body and face and bent to brush
her lips.

“Cecilya, we need to get dressed
and go.”

She opened beautiful mesmerizing
eyes that gleamed like a green river spotted with brown shadows. “I’ll never
forget our night of love.”

“I wish I could offer you a
future.” He gathered her in his arms and kissed her, then eased from her with
an audible sigh.

He helped her into the narrow
shower and lathered her back. She laughed and returned the favor. They stood
naked, welded to each other and kissed while the scalding water cascaded down
their bodies. Stepping out of the cramped space, he handed her a towel then
dried himself.

“I’ll prepare the coffee and cake
while you get dressed.”

Staying around her was too
tempting. Sergei pulled on his boxers, pants and turtleneck. A moment later,
Cecile emerged from the bathroom barefoot, her hair wet and mussed but at least
she was dressed.

Sergei handed her a cup of
steaming coffee. He deposited two plates each containing a piece of chocolate
cake on the table and a little packet wrapped in blue paper.

“What’s that?” she asked while
fingering the package.

“Don’t open it now. These are two
tapes with Russian songs to remind you of happy time in Minsk.”

“Oh Sergei, that’s so nice of
you. Thank you.” She threw her arms around his neck and kissed him. He kept her
against him devouring her mouth, then brusquely unhooked her hands and pushed her
toward a chair.

“I’m sorry to rush you, Cecile,”
Sergei said, recovering his usual authoritarian tone. Nicouvitch will pick us
up at six sharp at the exact place where he dropped you yesterday. You will go
ahead and climb up in the backseat. I’ll join you two minutes later.”

Cecile sipped her coffee and ate
her cake silently, then stole a glance at him. “Will you come to the Hall of
Officers?”

His lips twisted in a grimace.
“As a Major General, I will head the Summary Meeting and I will struggle to maintain
a blank expression and an official façade. Too many people would be eager to
pinpoint the slightest out of context smile.”

She nodded. “I understand. And
I’ll do the same.”

“Roussov, my former
father-in-law, is waiting for a chance to destroy me. I can’t repeat it enough.
Stay away from him, Cecilya. He would be delighted to shred your reputation to
pieces.”

Cecilya had restored peace to his
heart. He pulled her out of her chair and into his arms. “Thank you, my
darling, for staying last night.” He kissed her and then glanced at his watch.

They removed the cups and dishes.
She insisted on washing them while he tidied the bedroom. He came back and
helped her into her coat. “Nicolai will drop me first at his flat where I will
recover my uniform. Then he’ll drive you to your hotel. We’ll meet at ten sharp
at the Hall. The meeting will be short. Nicolai will accompany your delegation
to the airport and see you off.”

She wrapped her arms around his
neck. “You won’t come to the airport, right?”

He touched his lips to her
forehead. “No, my darling, the Major General of Belarus has no business being
at the airport. Forgive me if I do my best to ignore you at the Hall of
Officers.”

He shoved the
chapka
on
her head and tilted it to the side. He cupped her cheeks between his palms and
smiled, then crushed her mouth with his own for one last breath-stealing kiss.
Releasing her, he opened the door and checked the hallway for neighbors then
punched the button of the elevator. “You can go now.”

Chapter Twelve

How would she survive without her
dear Sergei? She’d just discovered the meaning of happiness—she couldn’t even
think the word love—and it was already snatched away from her.

Not only would they be separated
but also there was no way to talk to him, to hear his voice, to even send him a
message or receive news from him. The Major General lived in government
buildings and probably never answered the phone himself.

She realized with despair that
for the next few weeks, all communication with Sergei would be cut. His
secretary—or maybe even the damned Bureau of National Security—would intercept
any international call or letter before it even reached him. And e-mailing
seemed an impossible utopia since neither Sergei Fedorin nor his officers owned
a computer.

Cecile dropped her head in her
hands dejectedly.

Fool, she had been a presumptuous
fool. She thought herself strong, rational, wise and collected, but she
collapsed and whined like a teenager, a few minutes after leaving him. Had the
cold sensible brain of Dr. Lornier already deserted her?

She solved everyone’s problems
but she couldn’t do a damned thing for herself.

* * * * *

The Red Hall swarmed with
uniforms. Cecile mused that every Belarusian officer must have turned up at the
Hall of Officers to get a glimpse of the American delegation.

Cecile noticed the fringe of gray
hair crowning a balding head. The older officer spun around and she recognized
Roussov.

He headed straight toward her and
grabbed her hand. “Dr. Lornier, the news of your enthusiastic handling of
Belchem Lab has spread all over Minsk. On behalf of the Minister of Defense and
the President of Belarus, whom I personally know,” he specified pompously with
an important smile, “I want to express our gratitude for your effort. When you
come back I hope I will be able to invite you out.”

“Thank you, Colonel Roussov.
We’ll do our best to fulfill the requirements of our contract and help your
country,” she said, ignoring the personal invitation.

Coming straight toward them,
Nicolai blessedly interfered. “Colonel Roussov, Dr. Lornier, please take your
places. The
Major
Generalle
has just arrived. The meeting is
about to start.”

Roussov bowed and released her hand.
She nodded and scooted to her seat. In spite of Sergei’s warning to stay away
from Roussov, she could hardly avoid meeting him.

Colonel Nicouvitch was already
announcing, “Sergei Fedorin,
Major Generalle
of Belarus.”

They all rose and the officers saluted.
Sergei headed to his seat, paused and returned the salute before sitting down.
He consulted with Nicolai who reached again for his microphone and addressed
her in Russian through the interpreter. “Dr. Lornier, if you would be kind
enough to give us a summary of your accomplishments and an
aperçu
of
your plans for the next two months.”

Threading her fingers around the
microphone, she glanced at her notes, then scanned the assembly and presented
her report. She concluded by saying that samples from around Minsk had already
been collected and would be leaving in her luggage. The Boston EAL lab could
report the analytical results within three weeks. The general sent her a
grateful glance.

It was time to go. One by one,
the Belarusians came to shake hands with her and John. Sergei solemnly bowed
over her hand as he often did in previous days. “
Spacibo bolshoye
,
Dr.
Robota
.
Dasvidania, goodbye
.”

She felt his kiss, hot and moist.
Her heart squeezed with pain. “Goodbye, General Fedorin,” she said, trying to
control her quavering voice.

Except for Colonel Nicouvitch,
the military departed from the Red Hall. Suddenly, Cecile felt very cold and
very lonely. A French poem that her grandma taught her years ago haunted her
mind.
You miss one person and the world seems empty
. Sergei had left the
Red Hall and she wanted to run away to a private place to cry without
restraint.

She spun around. Her gaze
encompassed the huge room and rested for a minute on the official table and the
seat he’d just vacated. She stared sadly, recalling the strong and proud Major
General of Belarus, the virile man who’d held her with so much tenderness a few
hours ago.

She sighed, raised her chin and
without uttering a word walked out of the Red Hall.

* * * * *

At the airport, Cecile followed
Nicolai like a robot. He carried her luggage and filed a Russian exit form for
her and John. The colonel presented his military pass and crossed the security
line with both of them.